The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XXX.
MONTEZUMA'S SUCCESSOR DEFIES THE CONQUERORS
As Huetzin rose to his feet, after laying gently down the lifeless bodyof the Toltec martyr, he beheld Sandoval patiently waiting to attracthis attention. The young Spaniard stood with one mail-shod foot restingon the neck of a writhing Aztec priest, who strove in vain to freehimself from its weight.
"Here is a vermin," spoke Sandoval, "who bears a certain look offamiliarity and who, I imagine, must be accounted of some consequenceamong his own diabolical crew. Yet I cannot place him and havepersuaded him to come to thee for recognition. I found him, squattedlike a toad in a hole, after yon image was dragged from its pedestal.He seems not to be wounded, nor do I believe he appeared in the fightat all. Now, lift thy head, vermin, that a man may gaze on thy devil'sface!"
Thus exclaiming, Sandoval caught at the matted hair of the priestand pulled up his head so that Huetzin had a fair view of thefear-distorted features. As he glanced at them the young Toltec uttereda great cry and sprang forward.
SANDOVAL PULLED UP HIS HEAD.]
"Aye, well do I know him!" he exclaimed. "He is the murderer ofthousands, and thrice have I been in his clutches. From me has he takenfather, mother, and sister! There (pointing to the mutilated bodyof Tlalco) is a specimen of his work. With his own hand did he slayTlahuicol and Tiata! He is Topil, the chief-priest, the chief curse ofAnahuac. Let me at him, that I may hurl him to everlasting damnation!Let me at him, I say! He is mine!"
"Gently, lad, gently!" interposed Sandoval, in a tone whose verysoftness intimated his rage. "To hurl him over the brink would be akindness. 'Twould be too sweet a death for him. I have a better plan.Leave him to me, and I promise you thou shalt be satisfied."
With this he again grasped the long hair of Topil's head, and draggedthe screaming wretch back into the shrine from which he had broughthim. There, lifting him with a quick jerk to his feet, he drove himup the stairway to its top, hastening his movements with many asword-prick in his bare legs. When Topil emerged on the roof, he wassixty feet above the platform where the combat had raged, and standingon the summit of a wooden tower. Sandoval bound his prisoner's wristsfirmly together, behind him, and then fastened one of his ankles, by acopper censer chain that he had found in the temple, to a projectingtimber, so that the priest, while allowed a certain freedom ofmotion, could by no possibility escape. There Sandoval left him, and,descending, closed the only avenue of escape behind him. Seizing aburning brand from an altar, he set fire to the woodwork of the templein a dozen places. It was like tinder, and in a minute the red flameswere greedily licking the slender tower on all sides. The screamsof the miscreant, dancing in torment on its summit, attracted theattention of the multitudes below, and they, still trembling from thedestruction of their god, were compelled to gaze helplessly upon theawful but well-merited fate of their chief-priest. Even after he washidden from sight by a towering screen of flame and smoke, his voicecould be heard in frantic appeals to the impotent gods.
When Cortes and the slender remnant of his victorious band descendedfrom this memorable battle-field, the Aztec throngs shrunk from themas though they were plague-stricken, and they passed unmolested totheir own quarters. That night the Spaniards again sallied forth, and,carrying blazing brands in every direction through the sleeping city,destroyed over three hundred houses.
On the following day, Cortes, thinking that by these reverses and bythe overthrow of their principal god, the Aztecs must be sufficientlyhumbled to submit, called a parley. As the principal nobles and theirfollowers assembled in the great square, he addressed them, through thevoice of Marina, from the same turret on which Montezuma had receivedhis death-wound.
"Men of Tenochtitlan," he said, "you have seen your gods trampled inthe dust, their priests destroyed, your warriors slain by thousands,and your dwellings burned. All this you have brought upon yourselves.Yet, for the affection I bore the king whom you murdered, I am willingto forgive you, if you lay down your arms, renounce the hideousreligion that offers no hope for your salvation, and resume theallegiance to his most Catholic majesty of Spain sworn by your king. Ifyou refuse these things, then will I make your beautiful city a heap ofsmouldering ruins, as barren of human life as the fire-crowned summitof yon sky-piercing mountain. What say you? Shall it be peace withimmunity from further suffering, or shall it be war to the death, andutter ruin?"
Then answered Cuitlahua, the newly crowned king: "It is true, OMalinche, that thou hast destroyed one of our temples, broken the imageof a god, and slain many of my people. Many more will doubtless fallbeneath thy terrible sword. But we are satisfied so long as for theblood of every hundred, we can shed that of one white man. Look on ourroofs and terraces, our streets and squares. They are thronged withAztec warriors, as far as thine eye can reach. Our numbers are scarcelydiminished. Yours are lessening every hour! You are perishing withhunger, and thirst, and sickness! Your provisions are failing! We willsee to it that you get no more. You have but little water! You mustsoon fall into our hands. _The bridges are removed_, and you cannotescape! Truly, O Malinche, is the vengeance of the outraged gods aboutto descend on thee."
At the conclusion of this bold speech, which well showed the temper ofthe newly made king, a flight of arrows compelled the Spaniards hastilyto descend from the turret and seek the shelter of their defences.
Cuitlahua's defiance filled the besieged with dismay. Of what use wereall their fightings, their sufferings, and their brilliant victories?The enemy was more determined than ever, and a hundred fresh warriorsstood ready to take the place of each one who was killed. A contestagainst such overwhelming odds was hopeless, and the sooner it wasabandoned the better. Thus argued the Spanish soldiers, especially therecruits who had come with Narvaez. These, to a man, declared theywould fight no longer, unless to preserve themselves in a retreat fromthe fatal city.
Against such a feeling among his followers, even the bold spirit ofthe commander was forced to yield. So, after a consultation with hisofficers, including the young chief of Tlascalans, he announced thatpreparations would at once be made for leaving Tenochtitlan. It wasdecided that the retreat should be by the causeway of Tlacopan,which, being but two miles in length, and thus much shorter than theone by which they had entered the city, would soonest lead them to themainland, where they could fight to advantage.
In the meantime, as in their frequent sorties, the Spaniards hadsuffered their greatest annoyance through missiles showered down fromthe housetops, Cortes had designed and caused to be built three woodentowers that he termed _mantas_. These were of two stories, and weremounted on rude wheels by means of which it was proposed to roll themthrough the streets, with musketeers stationed in the upper stories,who should sweep the housetops of all enemies as they advanced. In eachlower story, which was open to the ground, a force of brawny Tlascalanswas to push and pull the movable fortress without being exposed toattack. It was now determined to test the efficacy of these rudemachines in the sortie about to be made, to discover whether or not theavenue of Tlacopan was open and free from obstructions.
When all was in readiness the great gate of the fortress was thrownopen, and, with much creaking, groaning, and rocking the mantaissued forth. The Aztecs beheld its stately advance with bewilderedastonishment. They could not conceive its purpose, nor understand bywhat power it was propelled. There was no sign of human agency and itsprogress filled them with awe. As they gazed in gaping wonder, itslowly crossed the square and entered the avenue of Tlacopan. Suddenly,as it halted before a building, the roof of which was thronged witharmed men, a side of the upper story fell outward, and a volley ofmusketry was delivered with startling effect. A light, but strong,bridge was thrown to the housetop, and the Spaniards, crossing on it,quickly put its remaining occupants to flight with their swords. Thenthey retreated to their wooden fortress, pulled in the bridge, drewup their protecting shield and the engine of destruction proceededon its ponderous way. But its purpose was no longer a mystery. Theswarming occu
A tall building stood at this point, and from its roof an avalanche ofheavy timbers and great stones was poured on the devoted manta, ere itsprogress could be reversed. One of these formidable missiles crushed ina side of the structure, causing it to sway alarmingly. Several othersstruck it together, a moment later, and, with a melancholy crash, ittoppled to the ground burying its unfortunate defenders in the wreck,killing several of them, and injuring many more. With exulting yellsthe Aztecs rushed upon the prostrate tower, and, but for the promptassistance of a troop of cavalry, whose fierce onset quickly clearedthe street, not one of its struggling occupants would have escaped.
This experiment proved the uselessness of the mantas, on theconstruction of which so much time and labor had been expended. It alsoproved the truth of Cuitlahua's words. The bridges, over which theretreat must be conducted, were indeed removed, and seven open canalslay between the fortress and the causeway. These gaping chasms must befilled at all hazards.
After four days of incessant labor beneath a galling fire of arrows,darts, and stones, incessant fighting, incessant dying and suffering,the task was completed. The labor of tearing down buildings and fillingthe canals with their débris, devolved on the Tlascalans. The Spanishcavaliers charged up and down the avenue clearing it of the enemy whoswarmed in behind them the moment they had passed, while the Spanishinfantry guarded each bridge as it was finished. Many and fierce werethe hand to hand struggles during those four days; and, at theirconclusion, although their way of retreat was opened as far as thecauseway, the white conquerors were in as sorry a plight as were everany conquerors in all the world. But their present misfortunes were asnothing compared with those held in store for them by the immediatefuture.